


Tales from the Midlands

by Hopeful_Romantic



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: F/M, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-07
Updated: 2012-06-06
Packaged: 2017-11-07 03:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 4,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopeful_Romantic/pseuds/Hopeful_Romantic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small collection of drabbles and untitled fics created for challenges at legendland.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. All the Love in Her Eyes

I reached out to cradle Kahlan's head in my hands, letting my fingers tangle gently in her windblown curls. I pulled her quietly to me, holding us both still, letting the moment grow heavy between us. I met her darkened eyes, so familiar and yet so unknown. Men had died for the love in her eyes. They had shivered in fear, in joy, in pain, and in devotion, all for powerful love Kahlan commanded. But none, none but my brother had ever asked for it. 

I brought her face to my own, brushed my lips against hers and met her eyes. I let myself start to fall into their depths. 

“It's the only way,” I half confessed, half begged her. “The only way anyone... the world... will ever be safe.” 

Kahlan pulled back a little. 

“Why? Why now, Darken?” She asked. 

What answer could I give? Would she ever believe that I could want redemption; that I would ever seek it? 

“Ask me that again after I've been confessed,” I replied, before letting myself finally fall completely into the inescapable abyss of the Mother Confessor's eyes.


	2. Love Letter

**Disclaimer:** Legend of the Seeker/Sword of Truth is owned by Terry Goodkind and all the grand high mucky mucks of ABC. No copyright infringement is intended and no money was made from this of course. Any similarity to any other story not my own is coincidence.

 

 **Title:** Love Letter  
 **Genre:** Legend of the Seeker; OC  
 **Rating:** G  
 **Timeline:** None specific  
 **Author's Notes** : So, I wrote this little ficlit for the legendland challenge before the newest comments and I learned that it was meant to be a letter from the viewer to the character. And honestly, that's just a touch... uncomfortable for me. *wry grin* So anyhoo, while I can't submit this for the challenge, I am kind of amused by how it turned out, so I thought that I would post it here.

Oh, and the spelling/grammer errors are intention... (ie beautyful instead of beautiful) Because the author is meant to be no more than 10.

 

 

_Dear Kahlan... Mama says I should call you Mother Confessor, but you said I could call you Kahlan, member? So dear Kahlan..._

_This is my very first love letter. I hope I did it nice. I asked my teacher how to write one, but she told me to ask my Da. And Da told me to ask Momma, but Momma was too busy. So I wrote it all by myself. I hope I did it good and you like it._

_You are beautyful. My brother, Will, says you hafta tell girls that they are pretty all the time. But I don't think you are pretty. I think you are beautyful. You got eyes as blue as my favorite creek, the one with all the biggest fish. And your hair is real pretty, like the molasses Momma puts the cakes she makes for the spirit festival._

_And Alice, she's my sister, she says you're supposed to tell girls how smart they are and how good they smell. Well, I think you're smarter than even Miss Lessa, and she's a teacher! And I bet you must smell real good, or the Seeker wouldn't wanna hug you all the time, cause Alice told me nobody wants to hug stinky people. -I hope you wouldn't want me to take too many baths though-_

_I think that's about all._

_Love, Kyrran_

_Oh, almost forgot. I think you're also supposed give girls flowers. So I picked this one for you. It's missing a petal, but it's still real nice, ain't it? Da says they're called Moon Flowers, on account of em being all white and sparkly like the Moon. He picks em for Momma all the time and she always smiles when he gives em to her. I hope it makes you smile too cause you have a beautyful smile – like the moonlight, all bright and sparkly._

_Love again, Kyrran_


	3. Untitled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's a quest without horses? *wry grin*

I stamped a little nervously and couldn't help the small snort that escaped from me as I eyed the dangerous look girl that smelled of leather and blood. 

“Easy,” she said, making it sound like a firm command. “Easy...”

As I continued to dance, she looked around nervously herself and then held out one leather clad hand.

“Now come here...”

Glimmering sweet in her palm was a milk bar, the scent of cinnamon so strong that I could practically taste it. She stretched out her hand a little more. I couldn't resist. I devoured the treat and pressed forward for more. My dam had always despaired at how easily I was lead by my stomach. The girl secretly gave me another treat. 

She slipped a bridle over my head as I happily munched a third milk bar she offered me. She lead me back from the direction of my daring escape and brought me over to join the three others stamping in the chill air, humans by their sides. 

“Impressive,” said the young male human. “But it's still no chipmunk.”

My human gave him a look I didn't even try and decipher, I was too busy planning my next 'escape.' The humans _had_ just procured some ripe summer apples...


	4. Whither Thou Goest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kahlan plays with Richard.

**Disclaimer:** Legend of the Seeker belongs to Terry Goodkind and all the grand high mucky mucks of ABC. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money was made from this. Any similarity to any story not my own (and this one is similar to others of my own *grin*) is a coincidence. And all of this amounts to: just playing around here, please don't sue. *wry grin*

 **Title:** Whither Thou Goest  
 **Genre:** Kahlan/Richard  
 **Rating:** G  
 **Timeline:** After the end of the series

 

“Kahlan...” I called. “Kahlan, where are you? Kahlan?”

I heard her light laugh from the silver-green _li'asi_ leaves and the dark green wayward pines.

“Kahlan...”

“Come catch me...” the Mother Confessor called playfully. “Come find me, Richard...”

I shook my head and felt a tickle of fond exasperation burst from my lips as a small laugh.

“Kahlan, what's gotten into you?” I asked as I circled blindly, my eyes roving over the verdant growth that surrounded me. “Kahlan...”

“What makes you think anything's _gotten into me_?” The Mother Confessor's laughing voice asked from the silver-green trees.

“Kahlan, don't you think we're a little too old to be playing seek and find?” I asked as I circled blindly, my eyes roving over the verdant growth that surrounded me. “Kahlan...”

“You're never too old to have fun, Richard,” she called again from some hidden place within the lush greenery.

“Kahlan, we're not exactly children to be playing games in the garden...” I protested with a laugh.

“Who says only children can play games?” her voice teased lightly, drifting to me in the soft spring breeze. “Come on, Richard... come find me...”

“Kahlan...”

“Come play, Richard...”

Then I heard her bright laugh echo through the trees and surround me. For a moment, a closed my eyes, savoring her joy.

“Find me... _Seeker_...” Kahlan's voice taunted, the light tones teasing and caressing as if it were her hands and not just her voice reaching for me. I smiled and started to scan the wood around me intently. There, a broken branch, and there, a brushing boot print where Kahlan had ducked beneath the concealing branches of a wayward pine; I made my way toward the signs.

“Ha...” I cried triumphantly as I ducked beneath the evergreen branches, my voice trailing off in surprise as all I found were a pair of abandoned tall boots. Laughter teased at my ears and I stepped back into the open, dropping Kahlan's boots next to my own feet.

_“Oh, my wayward lad... in the wayward pine... come back home, love... come back and be mine...”_

“Kahlan...”

_“Oh, wayward lad... never more pine... come thou home, love... and always be mine...”_

The Mother Confessor's song surrounded me as I reached down and picked up her boots. I held them up high.

“Clever Kahlan, but really, how far do you think you can get without these?”

I twisted my wrist, making the boots sway slightly back and forth in my grip.

“As far as forever, if it means that you'll always be looking for me...” she called.

“Always...” I called out. “I'll always look for you. I'll always find you...”

I laughed and dropped the boots before looking for moss and leaf beds. I found her lighter tracks and began to follow them with a smile...


	5. Falling Like the Snow

**Disclaimer:** Legend of the Seeker belongs to Terry Goodkind and all the grand high mucky mucks of ABC. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money was made from this. Any similarity to any story not my own is a coincidence. And all of this amounts to: just playing around here, please don't sue. *wry grin*  
  
 **Title:** Falling Like Snow  
 **Genre:** Gen; family fic  
 **Rating:** G  
 **Timeline:** After the end of the series  
 **Author's Notes:** Written for [](http://legendland.livejournal.com/profile)[**legendland**](http://legendland.livejournal.com/) 's "Snow" challenge  
  
  
  
“There you are,” Cara said with a barely contained sigh as she looked up to where Kahlan's young daughter perched, blithe as any spring robin in the cherry tree. “We've been looking all over for you.”   
  
Keeping her eyes trained on the girl, Cara called out, “I've found her Zedd; over here.”   
  
“Why are you up there?” The Mord'sith asked. “Aren't you supposed to be at your lessons with Zedd?”   
  
Lily stood up abruptly on her branch and bounced, fearless as only a child could be and innocently unaware that her action may have been the only thing that had ever scared the Mord'sith below her.   
  
“I miss Papa,” she explained. “I miss Papa, but Zedd said that he wouldn't be back until the cherry blossoms fell like snow.”  
  
Lily bounced some more, holding tightly to the branch above her so that she could almost violently shake the branch that she was standing on.   
  
“Is this enough Cara?” Are they falling like snow yet?”   
  
“Lily...” Cara replied with a low, worried sound making her voice rough as she looked for a safe way to retrieve her friends' daughter.   
  
“Are they Cara?”  
  
“Lily...”   
  
Suddenly, Cara lost sight of the girl as an unexpected wind brought down thousands of cherry blossoms in a whirlwind of pink and white petals.   
  
“Lily!”   
  
“Papa's coming!” Cara heard the young girl cry. “Papa's coming! Catch me Cara!”   
  
The Mord'sith finally saw the young girl leap from the branches with an absolute faith that Cara would catch her. Cara raced to justify the child's faith in her and caught the girl at just the right moment.   
  
“There's Papa!” Lily cried, pointing in a direction ahead of them. She squirmed and Cara released her to dash forward into the storm of pink and white petals. After a few tense moments, Richard emerged carrying his excited daughter.   
  
“Cara...”  
  
“You know, I always thought it had something to do with you being the Seeker,” the Mord'sith said by way of greeting, waving her hand in a vague gesture to indicate something of a leaping action. “Who knew it was genetic?”   
  
Cara took in the picture of Richard cradling his fearless daughter in his arms surrounded by whirling pink petals. She shook her head slightly.  
  
“Falling like snow... welcome home, Richard,” Cara said before shaking her head once more and walking away.


	6. In the Midlands, No One Can Hear You Scream

**Disclaimer:** Legend of the Seeker belongs to Terry Goodkind and all the grand high mucky mucks of ABC. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money was made from this. Any similarity to any story not my own is a coincidence. And all of this amounts to: just playing around here, please don't sue. *wry grin*  
  
 **Title:** In the Midlands, No One Can Hear You Scream  
 **Genre:** Gen  
 **Rating:** G  
 **Timeline:** Just sometime during the series after we meet Renn   
**Author's Notes:** Written for a [](http://legendland.livejournal.com/profile)[**legendland**](http://legendland.livejournal.com/) challenge. Based on the story of "The Golden Arm" Oh and the title is of course based on "in space, no one can hear you scream."  
  
  
  
  
Renn looked around the circle, his eyes reflecting each flicker of firelight. His friends met his thoughtful gaze fearlessly and giggled as he tried to catch their thoughts.   
  
“No cheating,” Kat said with a smile as Renn frowned, meeting all their mental blocks. The small boy leaned back, letting the shadows fill the hallows of his face. He let the silence build until he could feel his friends lean forward, edging toward the fire.   
  
“You think gars are scary? Renn asked quietly.   
  
The Listener flicked his eyes around the circle, trying to read expressions rather than thoughts. He grinned a bit mischievously when he saw their reactions.   
  
“That banelings are terrifying?” He continued softly.   
  
The boy scooted even farther back into the shadows, grinning as his companions sought the light in response.   
  
“ _I'm_ scared of the Golden Lady...”  
  
Renn waited for someone to ask, and was not disappointed.  
  
“The Golden Lady?” Janelle, the youngest asked. “Who's she, Renn?”  
  
“She's one of the servants of the Keeper and she haunts the fires of the Midlands, looking for her golden arm...”  
  
All the children eyed the campfire a bit nervously as Renn continued.   
  
“She was an ugly girl, and more than anything, she wanted to be pretty, because she thought that maybe then, some old rich guy would marry her.   
  
So one night she prayed to the Keeper and asked him to make her pretty. And you know what he did? He took her human arm, and gave her one of gold instead. As long as she had the golden arm, everyone thought she was pretty.”  
  
“You're makin' that up,” Max accused.   
  
“I ain't... I heard it... when I was Listening,” Renn insisted with a smile.  
  
“So it worked. And did someone marry her?” Kat interrupted.   
  
Renn looked to the eldest amongst them.   
  
“Yup, and they were happy 'til the girl started to get old and wrinkly. And the guy, he got to thinking. He didn't really want the ugly old thing did he? He really just wanted that golden arm. So he killed her and took the arm. Then he burned her body in the fire.”   
  
Renn shifted a little closer the campfire himself.   
  
“But then... all the fires in his house, they started burning green, like the fires of the Underworld. And he started hearing her voice in the flames...”  
  
“ _Who's got my golden arm_... he'd hear... _Who's got my golden arm_?” Renn chanted in a low sing-song voice.   
  
“And he kept hearing it, so he moved. But even in his new house, he'd hear her asking... _who's got my golden arm_?”   
  
By now, all the children had started to lean forward reluctantly as Renn pitched his voice low, wanting to hear, but not wanting to be any closer to the campfire than they had to be.  
  
“And no matter how many times he moved, he'd always hear her voice... _who's got my golden arm_... Got to be, he was too scared to light any fire at all, and all he had left was the golden arm, 'cause he kept using all his money to move, so he sold it to a traveling merchant.”   
  
“Well then, who's got it now?” Max asked.   
  
Renn shrugged.   
  
“Don't know... and neither does the Golden Lady. That's why she haunts all the fires of the Midlands, searching for it, always asking... _who's got my golden arm... who's got my golden arm_...”   
  
Renn started to chant, quieter and quieter, making all his friends lean in to hear his voice. And just as he was about shout the chant and startle his friends as the game dictated, the fire popped and flickered green...


	7. Letters from War

  **Author's Note:** Written for a prompt asking for letters that might be sent in the Midlands

 

_Dear Kavan,_

 

_I hope that this letter finds you well and safe. Father says that your regiment has been moved to the Haspin Valley to fight the resistance there. He says that we should all be very proud of you for fighting so bravely for D'hara and Father Rahl._

_I_ _**am** _ _proud of you. But I miss you so much brother. I wish that you were here._

_The village is very busy now as I'm sure you know. We have most of the harvest in, and are preparing for the D'harma'jas Festival. You should see it Kavan, there's ever so much fruit this year. Father feels certain that even if they take most of it in tribute, we shall still have plenty to last through the winter. Perhaps when you come home on leave, we will have d'harma'jas preserves on hana bread, just like when we were children._

_And you'll never believe it, but I have been elected D'harm'jas Queen for the festival. Mother is even making me a special dress for the crowning ceremony. It is just the same shade of green as d'harma'jas fruit, and mother is embroidering vines and leaves along all the hems with golden thread. It will be ever so beautiful._

_And Myra is so jealous. I suppose I shouldn't say that, but it's true. She thought for certain that she would be crowned Queen. She bragged and bragged about it and even had a dress already made by old Nanrici. You should have seen her face when I was named instead Kavan! And when she sees my dress..._

_Oh, and a new statue of Father Rahl has been placed in the village green. As D'harm'jas Queen, I will unveil it before devotions at the beginning of the festival. It is very tall and Justin carved it, so I am certain that it will be very impressive._

_I wish that you could be here for the Festival, Kavan, I know that it was always your favorite time of year, and it won't be the same without you here to lend your voice to the choir. I hope that Father Rahl and D'hara all appreciate how much you and the other soldiers are giving up for us all._

_Oh, mother is calling, I need to go. I'll send you another letter after the Festival to tell you how it all went._

_Stay safe and come home soon._

 

_Your devoted sister,_

_Elisabeth_


	8. Untitled 2

**Author's Note:** Written for a re-watch challenge at legendland for the episode, "Elixir"

 

 

 

 

I feel a small curl of anger warm my belly as I watch Zedd walk away toward Richard. It almost surprises me, and perhaps even scares me a little. I want to lash out at the old wizard, not because what he said was untrue, but because he has torn apart my small bit of happiness and left it scattered like so many rose petals on the ground.

I _know_ the reality. I live with it every damn day. I look out the window and watch the boy and his flower girl for just another moment. I'm _not_ like them... Richard and I can _never_ be like them... but...

I turn back to watch Richard.

For the first time in my life...

And the thought of Richard hearing it from Zedd. The look he'll have in his eyes...

The Seeker turns to look at me and I can't help the way it makes me feel. That little curl of anger turns in my stomach, joined by another twist of pain, because... I love Richard. I  _know_ I shouldn't. And I  _know_ I can't let him love me, but...

Richard smiles.

I love the way he looks at me now. After Zedd tells him...

I can't let it be Zedd. Even though I hate the ultimatum that the old wizard has given me, he's right, someone has to tell Richard. And if someone has to tell him, I want it to be me, if only to see Richard's love one last time before I do; if only to hold onto the illusion of that love one last time... because it's all I'll have afterward, and I want to hold on to the memory of it for the rest of my life...

 


	9. Necktie

**Disclaimer:** Legend of the Seeker belongs to Terry Goodkind and all the grand high mucky mucks of ABC. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money was made from this. Any similarity to any story not my own is a coincidence. And all of this amounts to: just playing around here, please don't sue. *wry grin*  
  
 **Title:** Necktie  
 **Genre:** Legend of the Seeker; humor  
 **Rating:** PG-13; rated for implied sexual situations  
 **Timeline:** After the end of the series; so spoilers for _Tears_  
 **Author's Notes:** Written for the "Fine Print" challenge at [](http://legendland.livejournal.com/profile)[**legendland**](http://legendland.livejournal.com/)

* * *

  
  
“Richard, what's happened? Where's the Sword? And why in the green blazes...” Zedd's distinctively clear voice trailed off into a nearly strangled sound. The scabbard in his hand came close to being dropped from his startled fingers, the loose belt with its buckle dangling and hitting his knee almost wildly.  
  
“Zedd!” Echoing cries from the surprised couple entwined atop Kahlan's chair bounced around the empty hall.   
  
“Oh my...” the flustered wizard managed to say before backing out of the audience chamber in a few stumbling strides. He closed the door behind himself and stared for a moment at the empty ring handle thumping woodenly in its place. Slowly, he replaced the untenanted scabbard back in the ring, its attached belt wound loosely around both it and the dark metal.   
  
“Wizard's rule number sixty nine...”   
  
Zedd smiled ruefully and shook his head.  
  
“Newlyweds...”


	10. Untitled 3

**Disclaimer:** Legend of the Seeker belongs to Terry Goodkind, and all the grand high mucky mucks of course. No copyright infringement is intended and no money was made from this little ficlit. Any similarity to any other fic not my own is coincidence.  
  
 **Title:** Untitled   
**Genre:** Family Fluff; Richard/Kahlan; Richard POV  
 **Rating:** G  
 **Timeline/spoilers:** Post series  
 **Notes:** Written for "trick or treat" meme. Oh, and yes, it really is just a little piece of silly fluff.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Oh..." Kahlan cried in distress, watching as the gooey concoction she had been baking slid with a molasses-like slowness out of the pan and landed with a wet thump on the kitchen table. "Oh..." she repeated, nearly stomping her foot in frustration. "Oh, what's wrong with it now?" She asked no one but herself before pursing her lips to blow back one of the loose curls that tickled against her cheek. "I don't understand."  
  
"Kahlan?"  
  
She turned a liquid blue gaze toward me before again pursing her lips and blowing a quick puff of air in the direction of yet another loose curl.  
  
"Kahlan? What are you doing?" I asked as I walked into the large kitchen and over to where she stood.  
  
"Richard..."  
  
She blew at one of the dark curls that slipped forward to tickle her nose, and I gently reached a hand out to brush it back behind her ear.  
  
"Kahlan, you _do_ realize that it's three in the morning," I asked softly with a small smile as I brushed back the rest of the curling tendrils of her hair.  
  
She returned my smile with a quiet one of her own.   
  
"I know," she replied  
  
"Then may I ask why you're suddenly filled with the need to be bake at three in the morning, love?" I asked, brushing my thumb over the tell-tale smudges of flour decorating her cheeks and the tip of her nose.   
  
"It's when she was born. A year ago, today, at three in the morning, Amnettte was born."  
  
I smiled and tenderly brushed away the last small dusting of flour that graced her cheek.   
  
"And it's her first, Richard, so I just..." my wife explained softly. "It's her first," she repeated giving a small shrug of her shoulders. "It's silly, I know."  
  
Kahlan looked around with distress at her failed attempts.  
  
"Maybe I _should_ just let Mistress Sanderholt..."  
  
"No Kahlan," I interrupted gently. "No..."  
  
I kissed her softly on the forehead and then reached for her hand. I lead her back to the scattered mix of bowls on the kitchen table. "Here, I'll help you; we'll make it together."  
  
She smiled. "Together?"  
  
I returned her smile with one of my own.   
  
"Always..."


	11. WWKD - What Would Kahlan Do?

**Disclaimer:** Legend of the Seeker belongs to Terry Goodkind and all the grand high mucky mucks of ABC. No copyright infringement is intended, and no money was made from this. Any similarity to any story not my own is a coincidence. And all of this amounts to: just playing around here, please don't sue. *wry grin*  
  
 **Title:** WWKD - What Would Kahlan Do?   
**Genre:** Gen  
 **Rating:** G  
 **Timeline:** During the banquet scene in "Marked" season opener season 2  
 **Author's Notes:** Written for a [](http://legendland.livejournal.com/profile)[**legendland**](http://legendland.livejournal.com/) challenge.  
  
  
  
  
Rachel sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and tried to breath past the butterflies that danced in her belly and tickled her throat. A bit helplessly, she looked around the filled banquet hall, her eyes wide and nearly tearful.   
  
“So many people,” she whispered to herself as she released her lip and replaced it with some of the loose tendrils of her hair. She sucked fitfully on the tips a moment before spitting them out with a silent admonishment to herself to stop acting like a baby.   
  
“Don't be silly, Rachel,” she continued to scold herself. “You can do this...”  
  
Her eyes caught sight of the Seeker and the Mother Confessor seated in a place of honor for the feast.   
  
“I just have to think about what Kahlan would do...”   
  
Rachel straightened her shoulders and her festival dress. She smoothed her hair and took a deep breath. She clasped her hands tightly together in front of herself and willed them to be steady.   
  
“What would the Mother Confessor do...” she repeated, watching Kahlan where she sat next to the Seeker.   
  
“She would be brave...” Rachel murmured. “She'd be strong... and she'd...”   
  
Rachel trailed off as her eyes scanned the crowded hall, looking for Martha.   
  
“Make the people she loves, proud of her,” Rachel whispered under her breath as she finally caught sight of Martha. The girl smiled to herself before turning her attention back to the Seeker and his Confessor.   
  
“Most especially that...”  
  
Rachel watched as Richard gently brushed back the long, loose tendrils of Kahlan's hair, his hand lingering. Kahlan leaned into the touch a moment before Richard drew his hand away.   
  
“Especially that,” she repeated. For a moment more, the girl watched the distant pair, idling thinking about how pretty Kahlan would be in a white bridal dress, and how handsome Richard would look in wedding clothes.   
  
“And Martha could make the cake,” Rachel whispered happily, suddenly caught up in her daydream. “And I could sing...”  
  
“...Sing?”  
  
“What?” Rachel asked, startled to see Martha standing next to her.  
  
Martha smiled. “I asked, are you ready to sing?”   
  
The girl nodded and smiled back, reaching up to grasp her adopted mother's hand.   
  
“I am now...”


End file.
